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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a low, crystalline mausoleum's half-buried in the hillside, surrounded by dense, waxy succulents reflecting the pale, diffuse light of an overcast sky. Air's heavy with the scent of damp stone, stillness broken only by the faint creaking of the mausoleum's walls... as this delicate, filigree-patterned stone latticework seems to be unfolding itself, rearranging its own structure like it's made of some slow-moving liquid. Rivulets of dark, resinous liquid silently flow through the ground around it, disappearing into the earth. It's mid-afternoon, judging from the shadows cast by the hill.